


As There Is But One World

by louderswine



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Circle of Magi, Dalish Culture, F/M, Forbidden Love, Hurt/Comfort, Imprisonment, Jealousy, Lyrium Addiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2018-04-24 01:22:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4900144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louderswine/pseuds/louderswine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On her way to the Arlathvhen, Ashalas Lavellan makes the mistake of revealing her magic in public and is forced by Templars into the Circle Tower in hopes of reforming her from her heathen ways. Cullen Rutherford is a young Templar still getting used to the effects of lyrium on his body. When their two lives collide, both are surprised to find unlikely comfort in the other. However, that comfort can't last as they both can't have their way. Will Ashalas be forced to turn her back on her clan, or will Cullen have to abandon his childhood dream of being in the Order? Neither will give up without a fight, and neither will be the same when this is over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To False Gods

**Author's Note:**

> The titles are from the Chant of Light like the quest titles in Inquisition, specifically from Canticle of Transfigurations, which deals with Maleficarum. I thought it fit. Also, I had to have read through this about a hundred times before I posted it, so I hope everything is all right.

It was night in the Free Marches when Ashalas Lavellan had first seen the dangers of the Templar Order. She had been only seven at the time, still curious about the world and unsure of what path she should follow. Keeper Istimaethoriel had tasked her with gathering herbs, but Ashalas had decided to collect small logs instead for her to whittle down into halla and other creatures to serve as protectors for her clan.

She had not realized how far she had ventured when she heard the stomping of boots. On instinct, she hid in the nearby underbrush and watched them with wide, blue eyes as they chased after a boy barely older than her. He threw a bolt of lightning over his shoulder, but the lead Templar blocked with his shield, causing the blast to hit a tree near her hiding place.

A small gasp escaped her lips, and she jumped slightly, getting her dark, auburn hair caught in the branches where she hid. Any other day, she would have simply snapped the twigs to escape, but instead she clasped a pale hand over her mouth as she watched them bear down on the boy. They restrained him roughly, slapping him across the face with their hands still sheathed in their steel gauntlets.

The boy slumped over, easily carried over one of the Templar’s shoulder. Once they were gone, she ran back to Keeper Istimaethoriel, sobbing about she had witnessed. The memory never left her, even eleven years later with her vallaslin affirming that she was not that scared child any longer.

It didn’t stop the hairs on the back of her neck from standing on end as they passed the Ferelden Templars in the small marketplace, though. She felt defenseless without her staff, but she needed to oversee the collection of supplies that her clan would need, since it was her responsibility as their First and future Keeper. Normally, they wouldn’t be this far south, but this decade the clans in the Brecillian Forest hosted the Arlathvhen, forcing them to make the trek as passing on their knowledge was important in keeping Dalish traditions alive.

The trip should have been routine. While the citizens of the small border town gawked at them, Ashalas paid them no mind, even as the townsfolk whispered about their odd, green leather clothing and her lack of boots. All she needed to do was ensure that the supplies included everything for the meeting and make sure that the shemlens didn’t cheat them in the process. Then she could head back to her clan and they could disappear into the forest as they always did, but nothing was ever that simple.

Screaming caught Ashalas’s attention as a small girl jumped out to grab a dropped doll, not seeming to notice the cart racing towards her. The man on the cart didn’t see the girl or pay any mind to her mother shouting at him to stop his cart. Ashalas jumped in front, scooping up the girl before she could remind herself that it was shemlen problems.

Ashalas wasn’t quick enough, though, and the horse barreled towards her, threatening to trample her in its wake while it reared in fear. Forgetting about the Templars, she threw up a barrier and rolled over to protect the girl in case it broke through. She squeezed her eyes shut as she heard the hooves pounding above her.

The sound stopped, and she slowly opened her eyes to see the horse replaced by Templars. They stared down at her through the slits of their helms. One roughly yanked her up while another pulled the little girl from her arms.

The mother took the girl while giving Ashalas a disgusted look. Ashalas turned her gaze from the mother in time to see her clan going for their weapons. While pain and fear did seep through her from the event, she gave them a small shake of her head. This fate was hers, from her mistake. She would not have her people suffer for it.

* * *

As a child, Cullen Rutherford had dreamed of becoming a Templar. He remembered the stories that the villagers of Honnleath would tell him whenever he entered town to help sell his father’s crops. They had made the Templars to sound so virtuous the way they kept the mages at bay and allowed everyone to live happy, normal lives without having to worry about blood magic or abominations.

While he knew he was too old to enter the service, he still practiced. He worked hard on his swordplay and skills, while pretending each blow that he struck was against a filthy mage who had been ready to burn down the village. Sometimes, he got his little brother, Branson, to pretend to be the mages, but most of the time the two hunted down their sister, Rosalie, much to her dislike and ire.

Cullen never thought he would get the chance to be a chance, yet here he sat in the middle of the Templar barracks in Kinloch Hold. He had dressed down to his padding, sitting on the edge of his bunk while the others milled around him. His body shook violently, large hands barely able to hold the lyrium kit in his hands.

He took a shaky breath then another before he managed to pick up the tools that he needed to make the singing in his head vanish. His curly blond hair began to soak with sweat while his amber eyes dilated. Cullen had gone too long without taking the draught, but he hated what it did to him, how it made him feel.

“It is to protect them,” he reminded himself. “You need this to protect them.”

Raising the potion to his lips, Cullen nearly moaned as the relief hit tongue, splashing against him like the cool water in the familiar lake near the farm. The shaking died slightly, and he ran a hand through his hair to slick it back even if he could feel some strands curling at the ends. He scrubbed a hand over his pale face, wiping away some of the sweat that had condensed there.

“You shouldn’t go so long without lyrium, Ser Cullen,” he heard Knight-Commander Greagoir say to him. “We need our Templars in top condition.”

“I know,” he breathed, “but it is best to save the reserves. If the tower were ever to be isolated, we would need supplies.”

“Always thinking ahead. That is what I think separates you from the others.”

Cullen glanced through his fingers, checking to see that the knight-commander wasn’t a hallucination brought on by the lyrium. The man who stood before him looked like Greagoir in his full Templar armor, grey hair dusting against his forehead and sprouting from his chin. His dark eyes held a calculating look, staring at Cullen with a hint of interest.

“I aim to please, Knight-Commander. May I ask the pleasure of this visit? This is the first time you have greeted me so personably.”

“We need a Templar such as you down at the entrance,” he explained. “An apostate was found in one of the smaller villages along the border. They have decided to bring them here.”

“An apostate?” Cullen asked, sitting up straighter as his gaze grew concerned. “They are bringing an apostate here? Why?”

“They say the apostate saved a child and feel that they can be rehabilitated under the watchful eye of the Circle.”

“That is good news.”

“Yes, but I still wish for there to be a strong presence there to greet them. I know you are off duty, so it is your choice. However, I would feel relieved if I had you there.”

“Of course, Knight-Commander,” he replied, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.

“Then I will see you down at the entrance hall. They should be here shortly.”

Cullen remained stilled on his bed until Greagoir bid him farewell and made his exit. The moment he was out of sight, Cullen leapt up to let out a small cry of victory, even though that did earn him from odd looks from the others. He then eagerly made his way to the armory to change so that he could make his way to the entrance hall and hopefully a future promotion.

* * *

To Ashalas’s surprise, they clapped her in irons instead of executing her on the spot. They had a fate much worse planned for her as she saw the tower looming overhead through the bars of the prison wagon. A lumped formed in her throat, but they were stronger, and she was without her staff, thus weakening her channeling.

The Templars grabbed her roughly, dragging her into a boat and rowing her across the lake. They kept her bound and forced her through large, oak doors into a stone hallway with iron grates over windows to rooms that held nothing. More Templars were there to greet her, but they had the nerve to look at her with a kind gaze.

Only two stood without their helmets. The first was a man with graying hair, a soft look filtering into the sharp angles of his face. The other appeared to be around the same age as Ashalas with a smooth face, despite the short stubble, and unruly, blond hair that he had tried to tame even though stubborn strands curled at the ends. Ashalas couldn’t meet his dark amber eyes, though, as he stared at her with a mixture of wonder and pity.

“Welcome to Kinloch Hold,” the elder Templar said. “I am Knight-Commander Greagoir. This is Ser Cullen Rutherford. He will be overseeing your initiation process.”

Cullen snapped his heels and stood at attention. “It is my honor.”

Ashalas frowned at them. “You do know I am a prisoner, yes? You do me no honor.”

With the decency to flush at the insult, Cullen looked over at the commander in uncertainty. Greagoir gave him a firm look that made the Templar stand a bit straighter. He gave Cullen an approving nod, causing the young Templar to surge forward and grabbed at her chains.

“Come on, you- you mage,” he said in a gruff voice, “enough of your insolence.”

Cullen pulled roughly at her chains as the others had done when they had dragged her. This made her yelp in surprise, causing Cullen to stop to notice the way the metal had rubbed her wrists raw. Pity returned to his gaze, and he placed a hand on her back to lead her down the hallway instead.

Opening another large door, Cullen brought her into a tightly quartered area with beds packed tightly in the small space and stacked high to the ceiling with a few tables on the side littered with games and books. She made an annoyed noise in the back of her throat as Cullen led her to the back. The bed he motioned to was on the bottom thankfully next to a dresser, but still it wasn’t an aravel.

“What’s the problem?” Cullen asked in a stern voice, even though a hint of concern leaked through. “Why are you just staring at it?”

“It’s not home,” she replied simply.

Surprise crossed over his face then sadness before he asked, “What would make it home?”

Ashalas sighed. “Nothing. Nothing could make it home. I miss my people and the sound of my own language. I miss the aravels. I miss my aravel and my carvings. I even miss the one I made of Fen’Harel.”

“Fen’Ha-Har?” Cullen tried to repeat but the word stuck on his tongue.

“The Dread Wolf. He is the trickster god. We place his statue at the edge of camp to remind us to be wary of him. I made one for my aravel. Maybe it displeased him. Maybe this is the price I pay for the carving.”

A sob broke from her lips as she thought about how she would never see her clan again. Cullen stretched out a hand, waving it around her before it settled on her head to begin awkwardly patting her. Ashalas stopped, eyes flickering up to look upon him with confusion.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

Blushing, Cullen swiftly removed his hand. “I-I was attempting to comfort you. Is that not how the Dalish comfort others?”

Despite herself, Ashalas laughed. “I don’t believe that they comfort anyone like that anywhere.”

“Yes, maybe you’re right,” he said with a small chuckle. “But, for what it’s worth, home can be right here. The Circle isn’t too bad if you give it a chance.”

“I am cut off from the outside world. I will never know the feel of running through the trees or the river rushing against my back.” She shook her head. “This is a prison. Nothing will ever make this place home.”

“This place protects you. There are people out there wish to harm mages. They are violent and cruel. In here, we can offer you some sort of protection. Many are grateful-”

“Many have not experienced enough to know what they miss.”

Before Cullen could open his mouth to argue with her, a knock interrupted them. They both looked up to see a kindly old man at the door. He hobbled a bit, but his steel gaze never left them and green robes flowed majestically with each step he took. The man tugged on his beard, which made Cullen squirm ever so slightly.

“I hope you were informing this young recruit of our ways instead of simply arguing with her,” the man said with a knowing look on his wizened face.

“No, I mean, yes, I mean...” Cullen trailed off, shoulders slumping. “I haven’t told her anything as of yet. I apologize, First Enchanter Irving.”

“It was my fault,” Ashalas said. “I began to weep, and- and he comforted me. He did his best with what he had. There is no reason for anyone to get in trouble here.”

“That was very kind of you, Ser Cullen,” Irving said, “but you may take your leave. I can handle everything from here.”

Cullen frowned. “But, I-”

“You needn’t worry. Everything will be fine.”

Taking a few steps back, Cullen gazed awkwardly between her and the door. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at the ground as his cheeks began to redden. Giving her a small wave, Cullen ran off into the other room then a full sprint if that was his armor clattering loudly through the halls with each hurried step.

“That boy,” Ashalas huffed.

“You will get used to him,” Irving told her. “You will get used to all of this.”

“I don’t want to get used to anything. I want to go back to my clan. My clan has never bothered humans, never so much as harmed one. We shuffle mages, make sure to keep our numbers low. We abide by your shem rules. Why can’t you release me?”

“All mages must live in the tower, otherwise they are apostates. Normally, they would have killed you for being one, but they saw you save the girl. They decided to grant you mercy by bringing you here instead.”

“Some mercy this is,” she huffed, trying to cross her arms over her chest but the chains wouldn’t let her. “If they saw me save her, they could have ignored it or let me go.”

“Maybe, but the entire market place saw you from what I hear. They wished to bring peace to the people there. If they would have let you go then some may have panicked.”

“Panic from someone saving a child.” Ashalas shook her head. “That’s madness.”

“That is the world we live in.”

“Not the one I plan to. I am going to change it. As Keeper, I am going to better relations with the humans around our clan, maybe even get them to accept the mages we hold. The world where I live, it has to have equality for everyone, not only the ones higher powers select.”

Irving chuckled. “While I would love to see a world like that, for the time, we must face reality.”

Taking a roll off his belt, Irving settled down onto the bed. He opened it to reveal a glass vial and a knife before motioning for Ashalas to join him. Though she glanced cautiously to the door, she relented and sat down. Alshalas was surprised when he undid her chains before realizing that soon there would be no need for them.

Ashalas had never seen the act of making a phylactery until now. Her people warned her of the dangers, how it allowed Templars to track mages. It frightened her to think there would be no escape now, but she held still, not letting an ounce of pain leak in her movements as he sliced her hand open to begin working on the magic.

* * *

Entering the Spoiled Princess, Cullen frowned as he gazed around the rundown drinking establishment. Not many stopped by here except for traders making their way to the Circle or the occasional Templar that had gone on break. Cullen had never visited the establishment himself but the others told him that it had everything he could ever need under its roof.

The claim appeared to be false as there wasn’t a single trader in the establishment. The only patrons seemed to be Carroll and some other Templars crowded around a table filled with tankards. They waved at him to come join them, but Cullen ignored them to make his way over to the bartender.

“Hello, Ser,” the bartender greeted him. “What can I get for you?”

“This- This may seem like an odd question, but do you sell items other than alcohol?”

“Yes, are you looking for some extra lyrium?”

“No! Maker, no!” Cullen shouted in disgust. “I am looking for a figurine of elven make. It looks like a wolf, or so I am told.”

“I’m sorry, but we only carry potions and certain supplies here, Ser.”

“Do you know where I can get one then? Or when the next trader will be here? It is very important that I get this figure as soon as possible.”

“Maybe I can help,” a woman said.

Turning around, Cullen looked around and then down to see a female dwarf smiling at him in amusement. She held herself with nobility despite the ragged dress that she wore and the soot covering her pale skin. Her messy red-hair reminded him a bit of Ashalas’s even though the dwarf’s seemed coarser than the fine silk that Ashalas had.

“Help with what?” Cullen asked her.

“Your figurine problem. I have a whittling knife that I’m not using. I can sell it and a bit of firewood to you. With most of the profits going to the Spoiled Princess, of course,” she added before the bartender could protest.

“That is very kind of you, but I am afraid I lack the skill.”

“I could teach you. Not that I’m much good at it since I just began myself, but I can pass on what I know then you can take care of the rest.”

“And it would be no trouble?”

“The bar’s empty. Your friends are at their limit. Not much else for me to do.”

“If you are sure.”

“Of course I am,” she said, grabbing his hand. “I’m Felsi, by the way.”

“You may call me Ser Cullen.”

“Well then, Ser Cullen, right this way.”

Felsi dragged him outside to a few benches surrounding an unlit campfire. No one sat there besides them as Kester had taken the ferry back to the tower. Stranded for the time being, Cullen decided the best course of action truly was to take her up on her offer and handed her the coin, which she exchanged it for the knife and wood. He stared at it for a moment before he took off his gauntlets. However, his hands remained frozen, unable to make the first cut.

“I don’t think I can do this,” Cullen said solemnly.

“Of course you can,” Felsi said, lightly tapping his arm with her fist. “It doesn’t have to be perfect. As long as it comes from the heart, she’ll love it.”

Blushing, he asked, “H-How did you know it was for a woman?”

“It’s always for a woman. Men, the idiots that they are, are always trying to impress us in some way or another.”

“I am not trying to impress. In fact, I am sure that nothing I do can. All I wish is for her to feel at home. It would be easier for all of us if she did.”

“Fellow Templar?” When Cullen stayed silent, she snorted in amusement. “So it’s a mage then. I thought you types hated them.”

“We do. I mean, we don’t hate them per say, just are cautious of what they can become.”

“It seems strange then, you doing something like this for someone like them.”

“She is an apostate that firmly believes in her blasphemy. However, the others believe that she can be rehabilitated, so to do that, she must feel at home. This can do that. It can give her a connection to the Circle. The only problem is...”

“This is more than just a figurine to her, isn’t it?”

Cullen fell silent, his gaze dropping to the log in his hand. Felsi didn’t say anything, but he could feel her eyes burrowing into him. A part of him wished to rage against her. Instead, he let out a weary sigh.

“It is blasphemy if I carve her a statue of her heathen gods. This may also do the opposite and drive her away even further from embracing the Maker. Except, her face and her eyes... I thought I would die gazing at her sorrow. I want to ease it.”

Felsi chuckled. “You’re cute. Everything is always so dire when you’re young.”

“You didn’t see her,” Cullen huffed, bristling slightly. “You didn’t speak with her.”

“No, I didn’t, but you have to ask yourself if it’s worth it. If you look back on it, ten, maybe twenty years from now, would you regret carving this just to make her feel at home?”

“Do you think I will?”

“I don’t know. If experience is anything to go by? Some days you’ll be glad you didn’t end up with that swill-swigging nug-humper. Others, it’ll hit you that you should’ve have fought a little harder, even if the son of a bronto showed up at the damn funeral piss drunk. It’s kind of a mix.”

Cullen frowned in confusion at her words but found that he couldn’t bring himself to ask her meaning. Instead, his thumb ran over the wood, picturing the form it might take under his unskilled hand. He closed his eyes then took a breath as a way of preparing himself for the hard choice that he needed to make.

* * *

 Later that night, Ashalas found herself surrounded by the apprentices. They tried to prod her with questions. She ignored them, throwing the covers over her head in hopes of getting them to go away. It had worked for the most part as tried to pretend that she was back in her aravel.

“I thought I said go away!” she growled irritably when she again heard approaching footsteps.

“I-I- If this is a bad time,” came a familiar voice. “I’ll just- I’ll-”

Peeking out from underneath her covers, she saw Cullen shifting from one foot to the other with his hands behind his back. His face was a shade of embarrassed red, and she had to admit he looked sweet when he was anxious like that. The other mages stared at him, but his focus seemed to be only on Ashalas.

“No, it’s not,” she told him as she sat up and turned so she could slide to the edge of her bed.

“Well, then your presence is requested outside the hall.” His eyes flickered to the door. “Right over there. That way...”

Ashalas followed his gaze with a frown. “If you say so.”

Getting to her feet, Ashalas followed Cullen out the door and into the hallway. He didn’t stop there and continued leading her until they were at a door in part of the tower that she didn’t yet know. Opening it revealed it a cave that seemed to be acting as a storage room as there were boxes upon boxes stacked against the walls.

Cullen ushered her inside, closing the door behind the two of them. Nerves began to stir inside of her as he stared at her. She had heard the rumors and warning from the other mages of how the Templars abused their powers, so she prepared herself for the worst.

“I-I-I got you something,” he said, pulling his hands out from behind his back to reveal a spikey, wooden lump. “We only carry the essentials here at the Circle, so I went to the Spoiled Princess, hoping to find a trader, but- but well, there wasn’t one. It was practically empty, but they did have a whittling knife and a dwarf...” Trailing off, Cullen rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “So, what do you think?”

Ashalas stared intently at the wooden lump. “I think I have to know what it is first to know what I think, if I’m being honest.”

“It’s Fenny,” Cullen explained, looking down in embarrassment. “The wolf you mentioned.”

“Fen’Harel?”

“Yes...” He shifted uncomfortably. “I know it’s not perfect, or even close to being any good, but- but I wished to show you that home can be here. Home can be wherever you make it.”

“I’m Dalish. You don’t have to remind me,” she said in a soft voice that ended with a chuckle.

Cullen’s eyes flickered up to her, a sheepish yet hopeful look in them. Taking pity on him, she plucked the figurine out from his hand. It looked nothing like a wolf, not even close. Still, it warmed her to have something of her people in her hands.

“Thank you, Cullen.”

“You’re welcome, uh...” He paused. “You know, I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Ashalas Lavellan.”

“Well, I’m Cullen Rutherford.” Cullen coughed awkwardly. “But you already knew that. Maker, you must think I’m an idiot.”

“Yes, a complete one, to tell you the truth,” she admitted, tucking a loose stand of hair behind her ear. “It’s actually quite endearing, though.”

Cullen laughed. “My idiocy is endearing. That is good to know.”

The two stared at each other for several minutes more, neither saying a word. Nervously, Ashalas licked her lips since she didn’t know what to say. Cullen’s eyes followed the movement, making her bite her bottom lip to stop herself from repeating it.

“I-I-I have to- There are duties,” Cullen tried, eyes still on her lips. “There are several duties that I need- That- Um...”

“Just go. I understand.”

Cullen gave her a dreamy grin as he waved while stiffly making his way to the door. He kept his calm until he exited the storage cave and broke into a run out of the room and down the hallway. Ashalas watched him, clinging to the tiny lump of wood in her hands. Part of her wished to toss it into a fire as she shouldn’t be accepting presents from shemlen, but for the life of her, she found she couldn’t bear the thought of losing the deformed figurine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, thank you for reading and getting this far. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. There are more chapters coming, and I already have some written, but I think I'm going to post them once a week just to give myself more time. I'm going to tag as I go, so this will get explicit eventually and will be changed when that chapter finally hits. Until then, it's going to stay at "Teen".


	2. His Gift

The next day when she woke up, Ashalas found her eyes going directly to the figurine that rested on the dresser next to her. She tried to remind herself that it should serve as a warning against the shemlen, too, but instead, a grin lit her face. She poked at the statue, watching it wobble uneasily as she thought of Cullen.

“Where’d you get that?” a voice asked her.

Ashalas looked up, ignoring the slight hope that it was the Templar. It wasn’t, though. A blond boy with long hair pulled partly into a ponytail gazed at her and the statue. She frowned at him, looking over him suspiciously.

“Why do you want to know?” she asked.

“I don’t mean any harm. Just that it looks a bit funny and wasn’t there yesterday.”

“I found it,” she lied but unsure as to why she did so. “It reminded me of a wolf, so I thought that I would use it to fill the empty space.”

The boy shrugged. “Suit yourself. I just came to tell you that breakfast will end soon, and if you miss out, you’ll have to go hungry through class since they close off the dining hall when it’s not in use.”

“Class?” she grumbled, though she forced herself out of bed.

Ashalas tried not to blush as she realized he was dressed while she was still in the nightgown Irving had provided her. She went to the dresser and began to look for her clothes. A small frown formed on her lips when she didn’t see what she had been wearing yester.

“Tell me about it. Why do we need to study something that comes naturally to us?”

“I still think we need practice, just not in such a stuffy environment,” she said as she began to rummage around more feverishly. “Where are my clothes? There are only robes here.”

“We aren’t allowed anything but robes. I bet some Templars came in during the night and switched everything out.”

“Of course they did.”

Letting out a frustrated groan, Ashalas grabbed the first set of robes, including a dumb hat she saw the other apprentices wearing, before she went to the sole communal bathroom shoved off to the side to begin changing. The space wasn’t suited for the number of mages that lived in the quarters, but no one seemed to care.

“I’m Anders, if you were wondering,” the boy announced.

“Ashalas Lavellan.”

“Can I call you ‘Ash’?”

“If you wish to butcher my name and its pronunciation, go right ahead,” she said irritably.

Walking out of the bathroom, Ashalas felt ridiculous in the apprentice robes. They loosely fit her, flowing a bit around the feet. She forced herself to walk carefully forward as the fear of tripping over the long hem began to overtake her.

Anders led her out of the apprentice quarters and up two flights of stairs to the Great Hall. Tables lined the room where mages were already digging into their food. Templars stood guard, watching with a steady eye, especially Cullen who she caught staring at her. She waved at him, laughing as he huffed and turned his head to hide the blush forming on his cheeks.

“Did you just wave at a Templar?” Anders asked in disgust.

“It’s only Cullen,” she said, not taking her eyes off the Templar.

“Oh, he’s Cullen now, but when he’s ordered to run you through because you blinked funny, then he won’t ‘only’ be Cullen.”

“He’s not like that. Cullen is kind and caring. He might act like an ass in front of the others, but he’s truly concerned about us.”

“Got all that from your private meeting last night, huh? Everyone knows about it.”

“Do I need to hit you? Because I will.”

“If you don’t believe that he’s a killer, ask him. Bastard won’t even be dumb enough to lie to your face about it.”

Ashalas’s mouth curved into a frown, eyes still on Cullen. He glanced back over to her before looking away as he noticed that she was staring right at him. She noted the way he shuffled and rubbed the back of his neck.

Though her gut twisted, she finally joined Anders at a table to begin eating. She steeled herself so that she wouldn’t look over at Cullen. All shemlens had the capability to kill. None could claim innocence, even if they did seem like the genuinely cared about her well-being.

* * *

Cullen had always known he talked in his sleep. His siblings had complained to his parents about it then the men in his barracks huffed about his loud mumblings. Now, it seemed that he was the one finally annoyed by it as Carroll and Bran had been teasing him all morning since he had awoken to their smug faces.

While Bran had his duty at the door, Carroll had the same shift as Cullen today. He followed him to the Great Hall, standing next to him as the guarded the dining area. Thankfully, they were standing away from the main doors, so Carroll didn’t see the subject of his dreams walk in and wave at him, or it could have been that he was too involved in his teasing to pay much attention.

“Ashalas,” Carroll said with an exaggerated groan. “Oh, Ashalas, my darling.”

Cullen winced. “I do not know who you are speaking. Please stop this nonsense.”

“Then why were you muttering her name last night?”

“I was not!”

“Was it the dwarf I saw you with? You don’t have to be ashamed. Takes all kinds.”

“How did you see anything? I had to load you and the others onto Kester’s boat. Most of you could barely walk straight let alone tell a dwarf from a tree stump.”

“Well, someone is defensive.”

Cullen’s ears began to burn, and he looked away from Carroll so the other couldn’t see the blush forming on his face. His eyes betrayed him, though, and locked onto the Dalish elf sitting with the trouble mage. He didn’t know the blond mage personally, but Cullen had heard that he held the record for most attempts at escape. Worry twisted in his gut, not liking how close the other seemed to be getting to Ashalas.

When the trouble mage laughed, Cullen sneered. He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. The trouble mage clearly was attempting to work his charms on Ashalas with his grins and talking, making her laugh so hard her head tilted back to expose the green lines along her neck.

“Though,” Carroll said at his side, “it doesn’t sound like a dwarf name, more elven I think.”

“It sounds like a nonsense kind of name,” Cullen huffed. “Why are we still on this?”

“Because it’s funny. You’ve never said Paige’s name in your sleep, and you’ve liked her since you got here.”

“I do not like Amell. She simply is a fine mage, and I admire her for it.”

“Yeah, I know what you admire.”

Carroll held his hands out in front of his armor to mime breasts then laughed at how red Cullen’s face became. Cullen straightened his back and clasped his hands behind him to resist the urge to shove Carroll. However, the teasing continued even more mercilessly.

In an attempt to ignore Carroll, Cullen tried to focus on his duty of guarding. His gaze fell upon Ashalas again, though. A smile spread across her face, and she lightly hit the trouble mage in the arm as he grinned at her.

Cullen’s fists clenched and his arms shook. He focused on keeping his body still, on not going over to demand what was so funny that the two of them kept laughing. His teeth grit, too, when he saw them share an almost familiar gaze with each other before laughing, Ashalas even having to hold her side to stop the fits.

“It can’t be that funny,” he grumbled. “They know I’m watching. They have to be mocking me.”

“What?” Carroll asked with a frown. “And people call me mad...”

Cullen jumped and glanced at Carroll. “Oh, uh, I did not mean to say that aloud. Can- Can we forget I said anything?”

“If you buy the round of drinks tonight, I swear I won’t run around the tower shouting about you talking to yourself.”

“I can’t. I nearly spent my entire budget for the week already. Isn’t there something else?”

“We just got the payment last week. What did you buy?”

“Well,” Cullen said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I suppose I can afford one round, but nothing fancy and possibly the cheapest ale they have.”

Grinning, Carroll shoved Cullen playfully. Cullen frowned at him, his eyes glancing towards where Ashalas had been sitting. However, she wasn’t there any longer, seat vacant. He made a mental note that he would have to discuss the situation the next time he found her.

* * *

After breakfast, the classes with the enchanters began. They had great knowledge in their subjects, and Ashalas found herself paying close attention. She needed to learn as much as she could to serve as Keeper to her clan so they could have an advantage over the shemlens. Maybe, if she left in time, she could even share her notes with the other clans when she attended the Arlathvhen.

Ashalas went over her notes as she walked through the hallway, noticing that it was clear of many of the apprentices, possibly because they were playing games in the dorms as a way to relax. She simply wanted to be alone with her thoughts and process the day. The reality that she might never see her clan again weighed upon her, but she kept her spirits high in hopes that everything she had learned might help with her escape.

However, the sound of metal clanking behind her caught her attention. She turned around, unsurprised when she saw Cullen walking up to her. He had a determined look on his face, though the twisting of his hands that created a scraping sound as the metal of his gauntlets rubbed together clearly gave away his nerves.

“Stay away from him,” Cullen commanded, straightening his back. “Stay away from that boy. He has tried to escape several-”

“Excuse me?” she asked with a frown. “Anders is very sweet and kind. Unlike the others, he understands and has been nothing but welcoming.”

“Can’t you see he’s charming you? He is trying to persuade you to his side so that you can help him escape.”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing? Charming me, trying to get me to think the Circle is my home so I can be a good, little mage?”

“I am trying to protect you!”

“Protect me? I don’t need a white knight. I can take care of myself.”

“Maybe in the Wilds, or wherever you are from, but here, the rules are different. There is much more at stake.”

“Like what?”

“They could decide you are not worth saving and kill you,” he said, lowering his voice along with his gaze. “Or, they could decide to make you Tranquil.”

Ashalas took a step forward. “And you don’t want that to happen to me?” When Cullen shook his head, she took in a deep breath and asked, “But, if you were ordered, would you?”

“If they were my orders,” he replied without looking up at her. “I serve the Chantry and the Maker. I must do as I am commanded.”

“Maybe that would work with someone who was raised here, but I am not ashamed of my magic. It is a part of me. It is a part of all elvhen. Your Chantry will not trick me into thinking that I have been cursed when this is as natural as the air I breathe.”

“The Maker says-”

“Good for him, but that isn’t who I follow.”

“I carved blasphemy for you. Maybe you could commit some for me, to keep you safe at the very least.”

“Cullen, I have thanked you for your gift. Don’t expect me to return it as if it were a favor.”

“Then do not expect me to be the one who saves you when you get into trouble.”

“Fenedhis lasa,” she swore at him.

Opening his mouth, Cullen stopped, unsure of what to say when he faced her native tongue. Ashalas took this opportunity to turn on her heel and begin matching down the hallway. The notes in her hands crinkled, nearly ripping as her fingers clenched into them.

“What does that even mean?” he called after her.

“Look it up, shemlen!” she yelled back without turning around.

“I know that one!”

Ashalas ignored him and stomped into her quarters. She stopped in front of the dresser then raised her hand as if she was about to slapped the figurine to the side. However, she didn’t wish to risk the Dread Wolf’s ire any more than she had in case he counted this idol among his collections now. So instead, she climbed into bed then pulled the covers over her face to hide the tears that began to fall.

“Ashalas?” she heard Anders call, making her remember there were others in the room.

“No, I am merely the spirit of her,” Ashalas replied. “If you could return when she is in, that would be appreciated.”

“I’ll just leave a message then.” Anders sighed. “We all heard the end of your fight. For what it’s worth, I had hoped that I had been wrong about him.”

Not answering, Ashalas turned on her side and waited. Quiet stretched between the two of them, filtered only with some whispering from the apprentice mages. The deliberate stomping of boots signaling Anders’ exit broke their silence, and Ashalas closed her eyes with a relieved sigh.

* * *

Fuming, Cullen marched himself to the library and opened the index pages. He grumbled, turning each page with an exaggerated huff like child throwing a tantrum. His finger poked and prodded, stabbing at words until he found the correct section.

Cullen stomped over to the History section, ignoring the looks the mages were giving him as he glared at the books lined there. He removed the book he desired, Translating Elven Languages, and sat down at one of the long tables. Slamming it down, Cullen opened it to begin scanning through the pages.

“Curses... Curses... Ah, here we are.”

Flipping to the section, Cullen frowned when he realized the book listed actual curses rather than swear words. He tapped his finger against the desk with annoyed huff before he collected several pieces of paper and a quill so he could attempt to translate what she said from memory. Scratching his head, he began to slip through the book, ignoring the small headache that began to form as his eyes scanned the musty text.

“Wolf,” he muttered. “Wolf, private, that’s the closet looking word...”

“CULLEN!” someone shouted, making his head pop up in surprise. “There you are!”

Whipping his head around, he saw the trouble mage that Ashalas had been speaking to this morning. The mage glowered at him as he stomped towards him before slamming his hands on the table. Some of the other mages who had been studying beside Cullen collected their possessions to avoid the confrontation between the mage and the Templar.

“Excuse me,” Cullen said, glaring at him, “but we are in a library, mage. You will keep your voice down as not to disturb the others.”

“It’s Anders. My name is Anders. Use it.”

“Not when you treat me and all the other Templars with disrespect.”

“They deserve it, especially you.”

“Why me? What have I done to you? We never even speak.”

“Not to me, to her. You made her cry. She defended you to me, you know. She said you weren’t like the others, but you are. You’re just better at hiding it.”

Cullen winced as if Anders had punched him across the face. “I didn’t-”

“Don’t lie to me. Don’t you dare lie to me while I’m looking at you in your disgusting face.”

“It’s not fair,” he whispered.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s not fair that you get to speak with her! To laugh with her so openly! To- To-” Cullen felt his face turn red, and his gaze dropped to his notes. “It’s not fair that you can be with her.”

Silence came between them, only being broken when Cullen heard the scrap of a chair against the stone tiles. Cullen glanced up to see Anders smugly grinning at him. He scowled at him, but that only seemed to make Anders grin wider.

“You’re jealous of me,” Anders said happily.

“No, I’m-”

“No, no, hush,” he said, waving a hand at Cullen to silence him. “Let me enjoy this for as long as I can. A Templar is jealous of _me_.”

Cullen rubbed his hand over his face. “Please stop.”

“I will if you promise you’ll apologize.”

“Of course I am going to apologize. I acted like a complete fool. I should have never even uttered those words to her much less thought them.” His gaze fell to the table again. “Some days, I have no idea what comes over me. I feel like a stranger in my own body.”

“That’s no excuse, you know.”

“I know. I wasn’t making one.”

Sighing, Cullen went back to his research in hopes that the mage would be satisfied. Anders remained, though, as he curiously glanced at the scratches and frustrated scribbles on the page. Cullen moved his arm to block Anders’ view, but the mage simply rose a bit to look over it.

“Do you mind?” Cullen asked irritably.

“I’m just curious what Templars research. I thought it would be how better to oppress mages, but it looks like Elven.”

“That would be because it is. Ashalas said something to me in her native tongue, an insult by the context. I asked her what it was, but she told me to look it up.”

Anders laughed. “So you did. That is mildly entertaining.”

“I am _so_ glad I can amuse you, but can you please leave? I need to finish this before someone realizes that I am not at my post.”

“Maybe I can help?”

“Why would you help me?”

“I want to know what she called you.”

Cullen huffed but turned his research over to Anders so that he could look over it. He watched the mage frown then pull the book over, flipping through some of the pages before letting out a laugh. Anders doubled over, clutching his side while wheezing slightly.

“She- She told you to-” Anders tried to explain but he couldn’t through his fit of laughter.

“She told me to what?” Cullen asked with a frown. “What’s so funny?”

“The literal translation is ‘to grant wolf privates’.”

“To grant-?”

Blush formed on cheeks as it clicked in his mind what she had told him to do. He hid his head in his hands, hoping Anders would stop laughing. Anders didn’t, though, even as he got up from his chair and left the library, Cullen could still hear Anders’ mocking laughter from down the hall.

* * *

Sleep had to have taken her as her senses were startled when she felt someone shake her. Opening her eyes, Cullen staring at her through the darkened room greeted her. She glared at him then pulled the covers over her head.

“I looked it up,” he whispered. “What you said was disgusting and inappropriate.”

“At least we know now that you have the ability to read,” she mumbled.

Cullen sighed. “That is not why I am here, though. May we speak outside?”

“Do you promise that you won’t end me?”

“Yes, you have my word.”

“Fine, but make it quick.”

When Cullen nodded his head, Ashalas carefully slid out of bed. She could hear Cullen’s armor clinking as they walked, but the others slept on without notice. It seemed they were more used to the sound of the Templars marching around at night.

Ashalas followed him out into the hallway, but they didn’t go any further as he turned around to face her. Cullen’s eyes dropped to the floor as a hand found its way to the back of his neck. He rubbed at it for a few seconds, eyes flickering as if trying to focus on a thought.

“I apologize,” he said finally. “What I did- What I said- Ashalas, I didn’t wish for it to come out like it did. I certainly didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“How do you know I cried?” she asked suspiciously. “Did you follow me?”

“Anders told me. He was very... vocal about his opinion of my actions.”

“He shouldn’t have been. You’re not at fault for my tears. I was more crying in hopeless frustration than any actual pain.”

“Still, I should not have been so blunt or blamed you for my blasphemy. I made a choice when I carved that idol, even if I didn’t think of the consequences at the time.”

“I can return it if this is causing a problem for you.”

“No!” Cullen shouted. “No,” he said more softly as he realized others were sleeping. “I gave that to you so you could have comfort. I will simply seek redemption in my prayers.”

“Why, though? You don’t know me. Why is my comfort such a concern to you? This truly all can’t be so that I can conform to the tower, can it?”

Cullen dropped his hand from his neck. “I suppose I simply am sympathetic to your plight. I know what it is like to be far from everything you know. A token of comfort is helpful. Sometimes, it can be the only thing that holds you together.”

Reaching into the front of his armor, Cullen pulled out a simple coin. He smiled at her as if expecting her to understand the meaning. Ashalas frowned as she stared at it before cautiously taking it from him to turn it over in her hand.

“My brother gave that to me before I left to join the Templars,” he explained. “He said it was for luck, but I know it’s just what he had in his pockets at the time. When I look at it, I don’t feel so homesick. I thought I might be able to do the same for you.”

Ashalas snorted. “You are a complete idiot.”

“But an endearing one, if my sources are correct.”

A laugh escaped her lips, but Ashalas quickly covered it with a forced cough. She kept her attention on the coin as when she looked up she could see Cullen staring at her. His eyes were soft with an expression she didn’t recognize, which made Ashalas squirm nervously.

“I should go,” he said, clearing his throat. “My shift is almost over, and I promised to pay for drinks. However, I didn’t wish to leave without righting everything between us, though.”

“Thank you, but promise me no more late night visits. You can come talk to me in the morning or afternoons, you know. I doubt we can be punished for simply speaking.”

“That would be inappropriate. You are my charge. It is my duty to watch over you and ensure your safety.”

“How are you to do that when you’re halfway across the room? I could be dead by the time you get to me.”

Cullen paled slightly. “That did not occur to me...”

“Then you see me point?”

“I will think about it.”

“You’ll think about it?” she repeated with a small frown.

“That is truly the best I can do, Ashalas. Believe me when I say that I would give anything to adhere to your desires, but-” He cut himself off, ears going red, and cleared his throat. “I am a Templar. You simply have to remember that.”

“Why do I have to? What’s so bad about the two of us getting attached?”

“Because-” Cullen sucked in breath. “Because I won’t be able to do what is needed if that time ever comes... Still, despite that, I will think upon what you have said, about us spending more time together. I swear it.”

Ashalas smiled softly, and Cullen’s face turned red. “Well, I think you will find that I am very much worth the risk.”

“Oh, uh, I- um,” he said as his hand flew to the back of his neck. “I don’t doubt that. Just-”

“Time, I know. I’m only teasing.”

“Well, stop.”

“Make me.”

Cullen moved forward as if he were going to follow through with his threat. However, he stopped midway, facing becoming even redder than it had been previously as he realized how close the two of them were standing now. He gulped silently before he did what he always did and turned down the hallway and ran as if a demon was chasing him.

“Wait,” she tried to call after him before realizing everyone was still sleeping.

Looking down at her hand, Ashalas found that she had forgotten to give the coin back. She wished to give chase, but Cullen had speed even though he was dressed in such heavy armor. Ashalas sighed and stared after him, thoughts confused as part of her thought about keeping the good luck charm.

“Here I thought I was the only one who could do that,” a voice said from the door down the hall.

An apprentice from the other dorms smiled at her with knowing dark brown eyes. Black hair flowed down her shoulders, bouncing lightly as she made her approach. Ashalas closed her hand around the coin and hid it behind her back in hopes she didn’t see.

“And who might you be?” Ashalas asked.

“Paige Amell,” she greeted. “I heard Cullen speaking in complete sentences. I thought that it might be worth a look.”

“He does the stutter around you, as well?”

“And the running. I like watching him run.”

“Creators, yes.”

The two girls giggled at the thought then blushed before laughing out right, not worried anymore about waking up the other mages. Their fit died down, and they shared a glance before Ashalas revealed to Paige what was in her hand. Paige looked at the coin, nodding her head.

“Nice,” Paige said. “He never showed that to me before. I think I’m a bit jealous.”

“Are you?”

“Not like it’s a problem. It’s hard not to like him with the way he acts.”

“Does that mean he flirts with many girls here?”

“No, he keeps to himself mostly. That’s why I thought I was the only one who could do that.” She grinned and winked at her. “Besides, there’s nothing wrong with a little healthy competition, am I right?”

“You do know we’re going to drive him insane if we do anything remotely close to what I think you’re thinking.”

“Yes, it might be a bit cruel. I suppose we can just fawn over him from a far if that suits you better.”

They chuckled and shook their heads. Paige gave Ashalas a small wave before she returned to her dorm. Ashalas stayed for a few more moments so she could stare at the coin in her hand. She decided to give it back, even if he didn’t approach her, she’d give everything back to him tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I hope you liked it. I'm really trying hard to research everything. I apologize if anything is inaccurate.


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